


The Other One

by Matori_Holmes



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, I might make a sequel to this, My First Sherlock Fanfic, Post TAB
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-06
Updated: 2016-08-06
Packaged: 2018-07-29 19:07:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7695871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Matori_Holmes/pseuds/Matori_Holmes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherrinford Holmes, they always say that this person is a he. What if Sherrinford is not who we expected?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Other One

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is my first Sherlock fanfic and my first fanfic in AO3. This was made at 2 a.m and I apologize if there are some mistakes in the grammar, etc. English is not my native language.

“What kind of parents names their daughter Carlisle Sherrinford Holmes? People called me Sherrinford and thought I was a boy,” she grumbled at her eldest brother. Mycroft only sighed and continued to read the newspaper. “Is it because he and I are twins?” she added while staring at her grime boots. “Mummy said he was born 7 minutes before me, is it true?” Carlisle, or known better as Sherrinford, asked with a smirk. A habit that she could never let go was annoying her brothers with ridiculous questions, whether to the eldest or the youngest.

Mycroft took a deep silent breath; he will not back down, not anymore. “You’ve been gone to long,” he said in his usual bored tone but Carlisle knew well the hidden meaning behind that. “Yes, 10 years, wasn’t it?” she asked solemnly, leaning back to the cold wall. “Mahogany,” she mumbled as she stared around the room. Carlisle always noticed what her brothers are addicted to, Mycroft to mahogany and Sherlock, well, he used to be addicted to drugs, she has no idea if he has rehabilitate or not.

There was an odd silent in the room. Not a rare one when Carlisle was around. “Indonesia was nice,” she finally said. “You should go there sometimes.” She knew that he couldn’t, always busy working. Her turquoise eyes bore into the newspaper. It reminded her of those days, when she was 17 and he was 24. Occasionally, when she comes home from school, he was always hidden behind those boring newspaper. No conversation would be started for they were actually thinking the same thing, the sibling who was rarely home.

“I couldn’t stop worrying, Micro,” she said, his nickname that she gave long ago sounded so...unfamiliar in her mouth. “How is he?” finally, Mycroft put down the newspaper, folding it neatly before putting his steeple hands under his chin. “The usual,” he answered vaguely and she noticed the slight grimace he made when he glanced at her boots, pants and shirt. “Thank you for being very informative,” she said sarcastically.

“Molly is under threat.” Carlisle stiffened quickly. “Hooper?” Mycroft nodded slightly. “How could she be?” she asked as she fisted her hands. Their eyes bore to one another, a silent conversation between them and she slowly relaxed. “Of course,” she whispered. “He would pick her to be someone he can trust. Someone he knew since before his teenage years,” she said, mostly to herself.

9 years old Molly Hooper invaded their lives since Carlisle and he were 10 years old. A friend wasn’t something that William (back then, Sherlock called her Carlisle while she called him William) would like to have. But a colleague, that, he was fond of. Molly had shown interest in human anatomy, that biology stuff and when she and her parents move next to their house, Sherlock and Molly would do experiments while Carlisle would usually learn how to bake from Molly.

By the time Sherlock turned 16, things sort of changed. He (and Carlisle) noticed how Molly would sometimes stare to long at him or she would suddenly blush when her hand touched his. The truth came out when Carlisle still couldn’t bake chocolate chips cookies for Mycroft (she accidentally burned one of his suit when she was ironing it). In the middle of Carlisle swearing due to the fact she couldn’t stir it well, Molly suddenly told her that she thinks she’s in love with Sherlock. That made Carlisle’s stomach churn and in the end, Molly was the one who made the cookies because Carlisle went into daze for almost an hour.

Then a year after that, he went into drugs, Mycroft had to deal with him, Carlisle had to deal with her final exams in Senior High School (Sherlock skipped two grades, much to her distaste). While young Molly, she had to deal with her father’s death. Carlisle and Molly’s friendship was strained, and the fact that their houses were close only made it worse. Carlisle wanted to tell Molly that she should not pick her brother, he’ll only hurt her but she didn’t dare to say that. A coward, that’s what Carlisle was. By the time she got enough courage...that was also the time Molly moved away with her mother without telling her or her parents.

Then suddenly, in 2005, in the crowded London, they bumped into each other. It was just a short meeting. Molly grown more beautiful in Carlisle’s opinion and Carlisle barely changed according to Molly. True though, Carlisle never really had a body of neither a woman nor a man but she considered herself as a woman due to her child-like face and long hair.

Then suddenly Molly told her that she misses Sherlock. Again Carlisle went into a daze but just for 5 minutes. That’s when she remembered, Sherlock is in London too, that was the reason she came here, to say goodbye. Carlisle quickly asked what was Molly doing here and admitted that she was studying at Bartholomew to be a pathologist. That means the possibility is small for them meet. Carlisle knew, she knew really well what her brother feels, ever since they were just two small children.

He loves Molly just as Molly loves him.  
“Sentiment is a chemical defect found in the losing side,” Carlisle said as she finished her reverie. Mycroft sighed, he really shouldn’t have made them think that love is barely an important thing and dangerous. “Those are his words, aren’t they?” she asked. She was sure that her mind is actually linked to his. She still remembered feeling something odd in her chest before she found out that Sherlock took drugs and the uncomfortable feeling on her spine when Sherlock fell off from the tree because he wanted to act as a pirate.

He only grunted in response. “Do you think Sherlock will give in?” Carlisle asked as she walked to the front of his desk. For a while, he didn’t response. Then suddenly he pulled out a photo from his pocket that quickly took her breath away.

There, probably a two years old boy with curly black hair and brown eyes with pale skin was smiling, showing his teeth that weren’t really complete yet. Those eyes reminded her very much of Hooper and the hair was precisely like Sherlock.

“He already did.”

**Author's Note:**

> Should I make a sequel (or somewhat prequel)? :\ (or maybe you think it's a horrible piece of story).


End file.
